The Queen and The Thief
by Precious Marble
Summary: (FANFIC TO THIEF 2014) The Queen of Beggars is out around the city years before the main story line. A scene catches her attention of a guard chasing after a boy who had stolen a loaf of bread. She notices the boy agility, and he skills at escaping the Watch at only a young age. She decides to confront the boy who would later go as Garrett.


NRy816

It was raining, like it would a lot this time of year in The City. The smell of petrichor reaching all the citizens nostrils and causing some sense of happiness in the people. It was a dry, hot and generally miserable summer for the citizens, food for the poor was scarce and even with the little food that was still local most of it was used up for the celebration of The Baron's marriage. It meant a collection of food, and more had to be crated in or shipped from neighbouring cities. Of course, none was given out to the people. The aristocrats were the only few, and if you were lucky enough to be a servant, you got the scraps.

The Queen of Beggars pulled her shawl over her head, trying in desperation to keep her greying hair from getting wet. Her aged fingers fiddled with her necklace as she gazed, not much blindly, but sightlessly towards the scarce selection of fruit the man before her was selling. A skinny man stood beside her, eyeing each fruit with such desperation he had half the mind to steal it. He was barefoot, with the exception of linen scraps used as bandages. His breaches were worn and dirty, along with an ancient cotton shirt, his own head was wrapped in an old scarf against the rain. He wasn't necessarily young, but he wasn't old either,

"Peter, what do you fancy?" Her earrings dangled as her face turned towards his dirty one,

"All look perfectly delicious, ma'am." Her purple painted lips curled into a smile, handing the man before a small handful of gold grabbing two apples and two pears. Peter grabbed the fruit into his calloused hands, almost dropping them at the scream of one Watch guard, chasing a small boy down the street.

"Get back 'ere you little bastard!" The voice was harsh, causing many people to step out of his way and the child's. The break in the crowd only made it easier for the boy to gain speed against the Watch.

The boy had dark short hair, and was fairly agile; a bag of goodies clutched to his chest like it was prized possession of his. The Queen of Beggars set her gaze on him; a rat scampered out from underneath her coat chasing after the boy.

"Come Peter." He watched the rat scurry down the street, then watched the aging woman follow the rodent.

"Do you know the boy ma'am?"

"No, but I would like to. I sense a greatness about him." Peter furrowed his brow, coughing strongly into his hand, He wiped the saliva and mucous onto his breaches, stepping over a puddle of more than just fresh rain water. The smell of piss rose from the alley they turned down; the guard had stopped chasing after the boy swearing and grumbling. The patter of rain against the cobbled streets understandably hid any resonance of footsteps when someone had earned so much distance.

"Ma'am?" Peter frowned as she stopped, glancing down the road. The boy sat in between two houses down the street, under the overhang on the roof in a way allowing him to dry off. A piece of black fabric was tied around his neck, much like a make-shift cloak. His short pants surely wouldn't do for the upcoming winter; neither would the thin shirt of his.

"He's just a boy." She began her slow march towards the boy. Peter hesitated before stepping back into the rain,

"I know he's a boy… so why are we bothering with him…?" He whispered under his breath, hoping she didn't catch his murmur. He rather liked the idea of having a nice, sweet pear when he arrived back into his corner of the chapel.

The dark headed boy studied the aged woman as she made her way towards him; he took a large bite of the loaf of bread he had stolen. His eyes narrowing as she came closer. The bread was dry and stale… the guard wouldn't have wanted it anyway, not in its state at present.

"You are rather impressive." She smiled at him; he noticed the cloudiness in her eyes, her pupils fogged over by what seemed like smoke. An uneasy sense that she could still see him registered in the back of his head though. His eyes cut to the scruffy, lanky man who appeared beside her. He didn't respond.

"What should I call you by, child of the street?"

"Garrett." His voice was surprisingly clear for such a young boy, a strong sense of unease developed in the atmosphere from his though. He scooted over slightly away from her. He smacked the rat as it crawled up on his lap. Peter bit his lip.

"They are my eyes, and ears, child… please don't hurt them. They are quite friendly."

"Sure…" His gaze held with the filthy rodents as it chattered and squeaked at him.

"What's your name?" His dark eyes, studied her features. She didn't appear to be a woman who was poor, who would associate herself with beggars, the urchins of the street and the undesirables. Her earrings look appealing, his mind racing to where it was possible to sell them, if he had them… for the coin to buy some food.

"I don't go by a name, but a title. I'm the Queen of Beggars." Peter watched the boy make a face.

"Come, Garrett, child of the street. There are many things I want to talk to you about." She smiled, he didn't move.

"Peter, he's hungry, we can spare a pear." He hesitated,

"Yes, ma'am." He dug into his pocket; Garrett wrapped his hands around the pear. He took a grateful bite. The juice rolled down his chin, he wiped it off with his sleeve.

"I was told not to talk with people I don't know." He murmured,

"Yet you take food from a stranger?" She tilted her head, "I see promise in your skills of thieving. I see something useful in what you can do."

"I wasn't supposed to be seen. I'm supposed to be a ghost." He scowled; Peter bit back a laugh at the childish disappointment. He got a swift, discreet smack in the knee with her walking stick. He lowered his head, in response, biting back a yelp in pain.

"How long have you've been doing this?"

He shrugged, "A year…"

"How many time have you been caught, child?" He was surprised by the kind nature in her speech.

"A few times…" He looked down. He tossed the core of the pear into the gutter, the piece being swept away with the rush of rain water that ran down hill.

"A ghost in the sense of your rarity." She smiled, his eyes widened at her comment. He pulled himself up, flinching when she touched his shoulder,

"Your skill will become very important to you one day, Garrett." He nodded looking over at Peter who was drenched. He was curious over the man's obedience to her, but then again his own surprised him. He followed her quietly, to the cathedral in Mourningside. He was only further impressed by the number of beggars who seemed to reside under her, she really was a queen. He refused to become beneath her though.


End file.
